Cynic Types
by Quiet Butterfly
Summary: Discontinued. Sorry.


"Advanced reading." She'd remember her teacher would say repeatedly to her fourth grade classroom. "Do your future self a favor and read for them. Carry a bottle so they don't need to carry a tank." Hard to tell if the stuff that came out of her mouth was true or the drugs talking. Ms. Harris was fired (and probably arrested) after getting caught high at school after multiple reports from parents claiming that she was rather 'funny' when at work.

"In ways, Ms. Harris is right." The former eight grader raised an eyebrow towards her mother from bringing up the druggie. "Not just about the advanced reading. You should be able to think for who you're going to be so it won't be as troublesome as it would be when you get there."

'But in ways Harris is wrong. Including the drug part. But it's not that easy. It's twenty gallons, not something I'd say is close to a small 250 ml bottle. I don't even know who I'm doing this for or at the very least care for- thinking of the future.'

Hell.

Do you know what appears in Emma's dictionary when you try to find a meaning for it?

However the fuck college was gonna be like while taking care of her sister.

Well, at least at first.

In the hallways of the second floor of Claesson Hall- a co-ed dormitory for most of the freshman- is where you'd find Emma. The dull pink rubber band holding her thick hair up into a slick ponytail was near to the seems of bursting apart. But she couldn't care less about how her hair was gonna look after an elastic however the fuck you describe it was gonna burst flying from her hair- she knew she was somewhere high on the scale of "about to fall whilst carrying food for your little sister who's already broke on moving day", and she'd rather get another one of her multiple rubber bands (maybe even paperclips) to fix up her hair than pay for another dinner for her little sister.

Speaking of which, it was tearing up. The cheap, brown paper bag they put all those plastic containers filled with noodles and soup filled plastic was gonna go splat on the floor. Hopefully the siopao wouldn't have that faith too.

245.

She quickly knocked on the door labeled as such with her wedged heel, careful to not drop all the food. After a while of tapping her foot on the disgusting floor (how much dust could gather up over a few months? Apparently a loooot), the dark wooden door opened up.

There revealed a girl that looked a lot like Emma. But with clear differences. A flatter nose, a wider face, a thinner body. Her hair was obviously longer, tied into two separate braids, pulling up some hair that was left on her face until it showed her tiny forehead. A navy blue shirt covered the top her body while jean shorts secured the bottom. A smile was adorned to her face; one that could defeat the sun in lightening up the room.

"Kitty." Emma greeted in a flat tone. In a tone that attempted to be flat, at least. As flat as your voice can get carrying three kilograms of Chinese food inside of a teared up paper bag.

"Hey Emma!" Kitty said, taking the take out from her sister's hands and ushering the older girl inside.

The eerie smell of cheese lingered in the room. So did lavender air freshener. A morbid pair.

Emma groaned. "Next time, you buy your own dinner. Do you know what it feels like to be a walking stereotype of a Chinese-Canadian lady in line to order Chinese food in a Chinese restaurant? It makes me feel like a tourist."

Emma sat on what she assumed to be Kitty's bed while she was setting up a makeshift table for the food. "I know that, which is why I pretended to not have enough money for at least a piece of thag siomai I saw across the street from East Campus." Kitty retorted rather calmly, setting down the Styrofoam box that contained asado siopao onto the table.

Emma blew off a few strands of hair that got out of her ponytail and rolled her eyes. " I knew I should've said no. Also, just some advice. Don't buy siomai from East Campus." Kitty raised an eyebrow, the sweet sauce for her usual chili-sweet sauce mix spilling a little on the floor.

"That bad?" Kitty asked while Emma nodded in reply.

Kitty took out the hot wanton soup- contained inside a plastic thing. Emma wasn't sure what to call it. "Holy shit. I knew something felt wrong when I looked at that 'dolarr per peece' sign." Kitty said and let out a short high pitched scream as she held onto the soup's surface for too long.

"I'll pay you back for the money you spent on my dinner!" She quickly said, dropping the soup on the makeshift table. Somehow, it wasn't a spill-on-impact type of thing. It just sat there and jiggled.

Emma snorted, kicking her shoes off leaving her in her socks. "Yeah, sure. And then you'll probably get me to do it again and forget about the first time."

Kitty laughed along with her right before pouring the wanton soup into a cup that contained egg noodles, spring onions and beef sauce. "What have you been doing while you were here? You talk like you're an ex-prostitute with one night stand issues."

Emma glared but said nothing, the prostitute remark probably making her shut up.

She quickly changed the subject. "Who did your hair?" She said, adjusting her tone so it wouldn't stay branded Emma mean.

Kitty touches along the end of the left one. They were probably as long as Emma's thighs and as thin as a big twig. "You like it? My roommate did it before she left to eat dinner with this guy."

Emma raised a brow with a weird look. Approval. "It's moving day. You somehow already got buddy-buddy with someone before college even starts. Back then, I had to file reports that three of my roommates were making our room smell like weed. You're lucky."

"Eh- wait, three?" Kitty asked, making Emma roll her eyes.

"I feel like you're surprised about the wrong thing." Emma said, getting up from Kitty's bed, watching her stuff her face with food. "I'm gonna go back to Fleming Hall and get something to eat with some of my sophomore pals." Emma pauses, thinking. "Speaking of eating, finish your food you ungrateful shit."

Kitty smiled. "You haven't changed."


End file.
